ore we perceived them. I gave the alarm, and we ran on, as
we thought, toward our troops; but the fog was so thick that we mistook
the way, and wandered about for some time in constant risk of being
surrounded by the enemy. At length we stumbled on the main body of
our line, and retreated with them. I never saw a more irritated and
disappointed set of men than our officers on that day. Every one had a
different cause for the repulse. Some said that Greene did not come up
in time to aid Wayne and Sullivan; while others said that Greene had
performed the most effective service during the engagement, and that the
loss of the day was owing to the military prejudices of Knox and some
others, who would halt to attack Chew's house, instead of following up
the advantages already gained. Then the fog was blamed for the confusion
it caused. The fact was, the defeat was owing to many causes combined,
some of which I have mentioned."

"The attack was certainly skilfully planned and truly executed, in spite
of its want of success," remarked old Harmar. "Your opinion of the
causes of the defeat, Mr. Smith, is that which is now generally adopted.
The halt at Chew's house did not give rise to the retreat of Sullivan's
division. The ammunition of the troops was exhausted, and they were not
aware of Greene's approach until they had begun to fall back. By the
way, did you hear how General Nash was killed?"

"He was killed by a cannon-ball, I believe," replied Smith.

"Yes," said old Harmar. "A round-shot from the British artillery
striking a sign-post in Germantown, glanced therefrom, and, passing
through his horse, shattered the general's thigh on the opposite side.
The fall of the animal hurled its unfortunate rider with
considerable force to the ground. With surprising courage and
presence of mind, General Nash, covering his wound with both
of his hands, called to his men, 'Never mind me, I have had a
devil of a tumble; rush on, my boys, rush on the enemy--I'll
be after you presently.' He could do no more.

Faint from loss of blood and the intense agony of his wound, the
sufferer was borne to a house hard by, and attended by Dr. Craik, by
special order of the commander-in-chief. The doctor gave his patient but
feeble hopes of recovery, even with the chances of amputation, when Nash
observed, 'It may be considered unmanly to complain, but my agony is too
great for human nature to bear. I am aware that my days, perhaps hours,
are num